


The Horrors of Being Human

by nerdbird26



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Body Horror, Body Modification, Diary/Journal, Fear, Gen, Graphic Description, Minecraft, Past Character Death, Post-Canon, Psychological Horror, Resurrection, Survival Horror, Ya Dead Ya Dead (Achievement Hunter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-08-20 10:35:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20226430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdbird26/pseuds/nerdbird26
Summary: A series of diary entries written by Alfredo Diaz.





	1. Lonely

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the events of Ya Dead, Ya Dead 2.

May 20th, 2019

Dear Diary

This Alfredo Diaz, the last remaining member of the Achievement Hunters. It's been three days since the last of my team has died. I've managed to repair the remainder of the house, which was presumably destroyed after an accidental explosion caused by Trevor Collins, the second to last survivor. Or, at least, I guess it was accidental. I desperately hope the explosion wasn't a fatal attempt to escape this island, but knowing Trevor, it couldn't have been. It must have been a slip of the hand, a pressure plate or a button that so happened to be in the wrong place.

I was in the mines when the tragic deaths went down. Trevor wasn't even present to Jeremy's death, so I don't know the location of his remains or the cause of it. Trevor's belongings were in the ruins of the house. There was no corpse at the sight; there never is. I collected his valuables and rebuilt the house. Then, I gathered the remaining blocks of TNT and a button, and decimated the bridge connecting this island to New Found Land. I'm not exactly sure what my own motivations of this action were, since there had been no signs of other human life. But I am fueled with paranoia and fear, and I believe it was the right thing to do for my own safety and sanity.

I am desperately alone. I am afraid to leave this house. I haven't left since they've died. I have been thinking about destroying the remaining beds and storing them away, since there is no need for them anymore, but my heart aches to remove them. They are the only things I have to remind myself of my fallen friends, besides the bloody pieces of armour they died in. The only company I have are the farm animals that I don't even know how to care for. It is unbearably lonely.

I don't even sleep in the lower part of the house. I've dragged my bed to the watchtower made by Michael. The stars are the only things I have to calm me down. I can't bear to sleep in the same room where my last friend died. I swear I've heard whispers as I pass by that area, or maybe this is the first sign that I'm going insane.

Without Jack, it's going to be difficult to learn how to tend to the crops or take care of the animals. But I have to learn how to do so soon; the food supplies is running low. Plus, farming may be my only passage from going insane from boredom. I'll have something to keep myself busy. I could also mine for gold in an attempt to bring back Jeremy and Trevor, but it's a risky mission to do alone. And the plans of travelling to the End with only three people is suicide. But I could use the company. Just someone to talk to. All I have are cows and pigs and sheep and chickens.

And this diary.

Night is swiftly approaching as I write this. I already see the stars over the horizon. No monsters, though, for the island has been illuminated with several torches. I'll pick up writing when I have news to report or when I am lonely. Until next time.

Sincerely, <strike>the Sauce</strike> <strike>Alfredo Diaz</strike> <strike>the last survivor</strike> Me


	2. Improvement

May 24th, 2019

Dear Diary

Ryan Haywood was a good friend of mine, and I’d hate to disrespect that man, especially in death. One thing he always told me was “learn by doing.” It irritated me, really, his almost animalistic behavior. He was risky and sometimes didn’t think things through, which ultimately led to his death. But, as much as I hate to admit it, learn by doing wasn’t a terrible method.

Learning how to farm took a lot of trial and error. It took me approximately four days to figure out how to tend to the crops, how every plant grew, what to feed the animals, but I got through it. The growing process is slow, but at least the future for my food source is hopeful.

The fresh air is nice, too. Being cooped up in the watchtower hasn’t been kind to my mental health. I used to spend my days in bed, rocking back and forth with endless thoughts in my head. At least with farming I can keep my hands busy and my mind off those persistent thoughts. But one thing has been bothering me. Those damn towers.

It’s hard to ignore them. They glisten so brightly in the sunlight that it’s almost blinding to look at them. I’ve wanted to tear them down, and I have attempted to do so. Not possible. Not because of emotional baggage, no. It is literally impossible to break them. My iron pickaxe seems to due no damage to them. I would try to blow them up, but I used the last of the TNT to destroy the bridge. They will have to remain standing there.

It was a shame that I couldn’t destroy them. Not because I want to destroy the memories of bringing back my friends, but because I wanted to cheat the system. Maybe I could have used the gold blocks to create two more towers for Trevor and Jeremy, but alas. I’ve still been too afraid to venture into the mines for gold. But if I don’t want to go mad from the solitude, I will have to go back into the mines. I could also travel to New Found Land by boat for a higher chance of finding gold in the undiscovered mines, but that’s also a risky move.

I miss my friends.

I’ll sleep on the thought. If I do decide to venture into the mines of New Found Land, I hope whatever God or gods or powerful force from above gives me some sort of luck to make it out alive. And if I die, at least I’ll see them again. As I write this, I suddenly realize I have nothing to lose.

All I have is my life, and I don’t even know if that’s worth living for.

Sincerely, Me

P.S. “Learn by doing” is still bs, Ryan.


	3. Shot

May 25th, 2019

Dear Diary

I'm in pain. Shot in the leg with an arrow. I traveled to New Found Land like I said I would and went down into one of the mines. The trip was going fine. I even found twelve pieces of gold down here. But one of those damn skeletons managed to get me in the knee, right where the armor doesn't cover my skin. It hurts like hell, but I don't have any sort of medication to stop the pain. My health is fine, but I don't think I can make in far in this condition.

I've trapped myself in the cave walls. It's a small hole lit up by a single torch. It's damp and suffocating. Hard to breathe. Hard to stand. I don't know what'll happen to me if this wound gets infected. I was hoping to get at least one person resurrected before I died. But I refuse to die like this. I might have to spend the night here and hope the pain wears off in the morning.

I was thirty-three pieces away from getting someone back. But I probably won't do it tomorrow. I need to heal up before I venture out anymore. Or maybe I should take on the hazardous behavior of my peers and risk going forward. I could get back Trevor or Jeremy before the end of the month. Even as I'm lying in a dim hole in a wall, knee swollen and bleeding, I still have hope. Falling into hope is better than falling into insanity, I guess. Or maybe it's an insane sort of hope.

I'm growing tired. but I'm scared to go to sleep in the case where I wake up and see something I don't want to see. But I should sleep to regain my energy and to let this wound heal. Please let me wake up in this same spot tomorrow.

Sincerely, Me

P.S. fuck skeletons


	4. Gold

May 27th, 2019

Dear Diary

When I die, whether it’s years in the future or days from now, and I run into my long deceased friends, I’ll have to thank them. I used to dismiss their chaotic behavior as just that: chaos. But as I woke up in that man-made hole, (thank lord), I gave in to the insane temptations my friends used to have and decided to venture further into the mines. And in doing so I struck a gold mine, a literal gold mine.

With exactly one stack of gold, I have enough to make seven blocks with one gold bar remaining. That’s one complete tower and the second one nearly half way there.

I’m at home right now, sitting in bed and looking up at the rolling clouds. It’s midday and I should be doing other things like tending the farm, but considering all my hard work in the mines, I deserve a break. Especially considering that I had to limp through most of the cave and on my way back to the house. My knee isn’t in the best state, but it’s not infected. I’ve bandaged myself up nicely and I should be ready to keep moving in a few days.

A new thought has festered its way into my mind. I have enough to bring back one person, but only one person. Trevor or Jeremy. It’s a debate I’ve been having with myself even before I went down into the mines. Decisions like these should be based on strategy, not emotions. This is too damn important to mess up, and I can’t mess it up over emotions.

Jeremy is smarter and more skilled than Trevor, admittedly. Bringing him back would be the smarter move. With his help, we would find gold more quickly, and, thus, bring back Trevor. It’s a win-win, really. It seems so simple. It shouldn’t be hard. I already have the block of obsidian in place in the graveyard. I could go out right now and bring him back. But...(there always has to be a but.)

Trevor and I are...special. Complicated. It’s hard to explain and hard to understand. I’m not even sure I completely understand it. We have a connection. It’s more than just emotional. I would almost describe it as spiritual. When everyone was still alive, the others would joke that we were practically the same person. And sure, we did kinda look alike (same height, same body structure, similar facial features). We were sorta like twins. And I liked the comparison. The idea of us being twins, like brothers. Partners in crime. Peas in a pod. Glued to the side. That sort. The companionship, the bond, the relationship. It was something I genuinely adored about us.

I’ve mentioned once before that I used to feel Trevor’s presence in the lower part of the house, in the same area where he died. But now I feel it everywhere. It’s not frightening, though. It’s almost peaceful, comforting. Like someone’s watching over my shoulder, looking out for me. I wonder if he can see through my eyes, or stand in my shoes, or feel what I feel, emotionally and physically. But I’m getting off topic.

Emotion shouldn’t take over now, not when I’m about to make such a grand decision. But I want Trevor back. I don’t know how well he’ll do in helping me find gold, but he shouldn’t be too bad. After all, he was the second to last survivor. I miss him, my partner.

I’ll have to sleep on it. Life right now is a lot of sleeping and thinking. Sleep and think. Think and sleep. And write. Lots of writing, too. Now I’m rambling.

Tomorrow I’ll decide.

Sincerely, Me

P.S. I wanted to make a gold related pun before signing off but puns are hard to make when you’re sleep deprived.


	5. Guilt

May 28th, 2019

Dear Diary

I'm guilty. I made my choice and I feel guilty. Would I feel guilty if I had done something else? Most certainly. But there's no point in fretting over it now. There's no going back.

I brought back Jeremy. The process was easy. I had watched Jeremy do it so many times. Placing the gold blocks atop one another and then calling out the name of who I wanted to bring back: simple. It's a little scary how easy it was. Reversing death like it was nothing out of the ordinary. What was scary was when Jeremy actually came back. With the other times we brought people back there was always at least three people there. They would be confused, distorted, and probably more afraid than we were. But I was still scared. Scared that I had done something wrong and they wouldn't be the person I thought they'd be. Scared that they would be more monster than man. Thankfully, this wasn't the case. Jeremy returned nearly the same way everyone else did, dazed and confused.

Nevertheless, he wasn't entirely the same. They never are when they come back. He looked like a demon that had risen up straight from hell. Or at least half demon. Most of his features were still human. But his skeleton seemed to seep through his skin, fading from his normal skin into deep black bone at certain parts of his body. His fingertips, half of his skull, his ribs. It took me a moment, but I soon realized that he was turning into a wither skeleton. Parts of his skin had turned into a sort of charred exoskeleton. Other areas of his normal human skin were covered in what looked like severe third degree burns, all leathery and waxy and inhumanly white. He looked truly terrifying.

Aside from the initial anxiety of being brought back to life, he didn't seem to be in any pain, physically or emotionally. He asked me the basic questions. "Where am I? What happened? Where's Trevor?" Of course I explained everything that had happened, except for his own death; that was a mystery to me at that point. He then told me that he was attacked by an enderman in New Found Land. This new information intrigued me in a frightening way. Ryan had come back as a mutated enderman, and he was long dead when Jeremy had died. I shouldn't let this theory spiral too out of control for my sanity, but it's a daunting thought. After the ordeal, I led Jeremy back to the house and gave him armor, weapons, tools, and food. He had no problem sleeping in the lower section of the house alone. I, myself, still haven't mustered up the courage to sleep down there. 

Based on the position of the moon above me, I would guess it is about 2 a.m. Jeremy is already asleep in his bed, but I can't sleep. Guilt. Guilty. I'm guilty. I'm thankful for Jeremy's presence. I'm happy he's here. I'm happy I'm not alone. And that makes me guilty. Guilty that it's not Trevor. He was my best friend, and even with Jeremy here with me, I feel a little lost. Part of me still feels somewhat lonely. I still feel his spiritual presence with me at times. I'm not sure what he's feeling, if he's trying to send me some sort of message that I'm failing to get, but I hope he's not angry. Or disappointed. Or betrayed. Trevor, if you're here, if you can hear my thoughts or read what I'm writing, I'll bring you back soon.

Jeremy and I plan on venturing to New Found Land to find more undiscovered mines for gold. A single cave should be enough to bring back Trevor. I don't know what'll happen next. I don't know if we should continue our original mission of going to the End. I prefer not to. I've lost nearly all of my family, I'd lose my mind if we lost anybody else. I'm already losing my mind at the thought. I should sleep.

Sincerely, Me

P.S. Jeremy, if you ever come across this, sorry about calling you "terrifying" or whatever. It's not a bad look, really.


	6. Dreadful

May 30th, 2019

Dear Diary

I can't stop the shaking in my hand as I write this. The pit in my stomach seems so dark and infinite. It was my fault. My fault. All my fault. <strike>My fault my fault my fault my fucking fault guilty guilty guilty</strike>

It was only one day. He was here one day and gone the next <strike>and it was my fault.</strike> Too soon. He didn't even see it but I did <strike>and I'm guilty.</strike> It was out of the corner of my eye and I didn't even think to point it out to him or even save him I just let it happen <strike>how could i just let this happen im such an idiot im guilty</strike>

All I heard was an explosion and then the next moment he was gone. He didn't even get a word out before he died. I dropped to my knees in front of where he stood and just waited there for roughly thirty minutes. I couldn't even bring myself to cry for that half hour. And then, like a ball dropping, I wept and wept and swear I could have flooded that cave with all the tears I cried. I had ruined a life. I know it was really me, not that creeper, that ended Jeremy's life. I cried till my eyes were sore and I stayed kneeling on the cold hard stone till my knees couldn't handle the pressure anymore. I was shaking so hard it was as if my soul was trying to pry itself free from my own body. All I feel is dread. **Dread dread dread dread dreadful dreadful dead dead dead**

I don't know what I'm going to tell Trevor. He's not going to want to stay here with me. What kind of friend would I be if I made him stay with the person guilty of his friend's death? <strike>guilty</strike> I want him to stay. But I have to let him decide. It has to be his choice. Maybe he's already made his choice. If his "presence" is actually him and not me going insane from guilt and dread and loneliness, then maybe he's already made up his mind. What will he think of me when I bring him back? I feel like I've already ruined my chances of bringing back my <strike>soulmate</strike> last friend.

I'm so petrified of what will happen that I don't even know if I'm willing to go through with it.

Sincerely, me (but i dont really feel like me)


End file.
